


triptych

by supersoft



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, Pining, Unsaid feelings, briefly, pretty much nico's inner monologue for many words, set after nico's retirement, toto and ross are briefly mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-12 06:49:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28756149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supersoft/pseuds/supersoft
Summary: trip·tych: a picture or relief carving on three panels, typically hinged together side by side and used as an altarpiece.or; three times lewis said i love you.
Relationships: Lewis Hamilton/Nico Rosberg, Nico Rosberg/Vivian Sibold
Comments: 4
Kudos: 24





	triptych

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tinyelectricguitar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinyelectricguitar/gifts).



  1. _it’ll pass_



the light casts a golden glow over the bedroom, the monaco sun high in the sky at this hour. nico can faintly hear the sounds of vivian and the girls in the kitchen, the clanging of utensils and the smell of pancakes dragging him out of his slumber. the scene in the kitchen is a beautiful one, something out of a renaissance painting, nico thinks. clouds of flour are lit up in the air, giving the scene a serene atmosphere, despite the chaos currently going on (meaning, vivian trying to stop the girls from eating pancake batter by the spoon). 

this is everything nico worked hard for, the tranquillity of these post-retirement months is something he hasn’t felt since the first day he put a foot in a kart. there have been peaceful moments during, of course, but those are impossible now. better not to think about them.

“daddy! mom is making pancakes!!”

nico is ripped out of his thoughts, glimpses of dark skin and late hotel nights replaced by naila waving a spoon in his direction and vivian looking at him with a beaming smile.

“yes, i can see that! do you want chocolate chips in yours liebling?”

the breakfast is a lovely affair, as always, despite the constant distraction of his phone vibrating in his pocket. the girls enthusiastically discuss the newest paw patrol episode, vivian joining in the fun. after a few buzzes, nico excuses himself for a few moments, and feels his heart drop out of his chest as he opens his phone. 

**(unknown number)**

_ monday, 11:42 pm _

hey, could we see each other for coffee soon? i’m in monaco for a few days

it’s lew, btw

in case you deleted my number

which you probably did

_ tuesday, 1:04 am _

i've been thinking about us 

i never really told you. i don't even think i saw you after abu dhabi

i'd love to talk

_ tuesday, 11:38 am _

sorry for all that last night. i might have found the mini alcohol bottles in the room fridge

remember when we used to share those? 

lewis picks up after half a ring.

“hey. lewis?”

“oh hey! hey nico! sorry about all that i really do just want to have a cof–”

“what the fuck do you actually want lewis?” the full name tastes bitter in his mouth.

“well you know since, since the end, we haven’t really talked and i’d love to reconnect”

“what is there left to say? you think i didn’t see that interview you gave?”

“bab– nico, don’t say that you know i didn’t mean any of it. i was angry, and defeated. i–”

“just say what you want to say lewis. vivian and the kids are waiting for me in the kitchen.”

“i– i’ve been thinking and. i love you.”

he says it so quietly, nico can barely hear it over the sound of the blood rushing in his ears.

“you don’t mean that”

“i do, nico. i really do.”

“it’ll pass, lewis. it always does. i need to go”

  1. _i know_



nico wakes up in a pool of cold sweat, his hair sticking to his forehead and his pillowcase imprinted on his cheek. his head is throbbing, his heart is in his throat, and he isn’t sure why. he turns around to see a peaceful vivian deep in sleep, and only the faintest beam of light comes through the curtains. staring at the ceiling, the memories come back. the warm, humid air on his face, the soft sounds of traffic below, only the lights of the city illuminating up his glass. a glass of whiskey, way too filled to be respectable on a tuesday night. 

the earlier memories come flooding back. lewis, the phone call, the empty, meaningless words. what  _ are _ words anyways?  _ complicated airflow _ . lewis most certainly didn’t mean any of that. why would he say them, then? psychological warfare? he has nothing to gain. there’s no points, no championships, no engines, it's all over now. nico is comfortable, at peace, he has a perfect family, a perfect life. everyone knows that. everyone can  _ see  _ that. so why would lewis barge in and shake up his precious stillness? 

there’s nothing particular about that thursday in february, other than the clouds looming in the sky, a rare occasion in monaco. nico walks into  _ casa del caffe _ with no expectations, if only to try and get some closure. 

after waving to marzia behind the counter, nico spots him, sitting alone at a table in the far corner, headphones over his head (nothing has changed, he notes). 

“lewis?”

he can see the moment lewis jumps out of his skin and scrambles to get up, going in for a hug. it ends up being an awkward few seconds as nico goes in for the handshake (maybe some things have changed).

“nico! hey! wow, the hair somehow got longer!” he laughs. “and it’s so  _ blonde _ . remember when we used to call you britney?” he says, eyes fond.

“yeah, yeah. vivian likes it better that way.”

silence drapes over the table, just as the server approaches.

“nico! haven’t seen you two in here in a while! when lewis asked for your table, i couldn’t believe it. will it be the usual, two lattes?”

lewis responds enthusiastically: “you remembered! yes, please, thank you.”

“actually i’ll take mine with oat milk, please”

“alright perfect, coming right up”

  
  
  


lewis chuckles to himself: “so what, are you all, granola now? oat milk?”

“yeah, vivian is lactose intolerant, so i’m used to it now”

“oh, yeah, i forgot.”

“so, you wanted to… talk, i assume?”

“well, yes, but just catch up! it’s been a while.”

“it’s been two months lew. lewis.”

“yes, i know. i know. it’s just– i go back to spain for winter testing soon and, i–i couldn’t pass up the opportunity to talk, you know.”

“why are you in monaco anyways?”

“oh, sponsors. sponsor commitment stuff. the usual.”

“uh huh, i see. how’s that valtteri guy? i heard he was good down at williams”

“yeah, yeah, he’s nice! speedy, apparently. not as cute though, haha.”

the coffees appear in front of them. just the right moment, nico thinks.

“so, are we just going to ignore the elephant in the room?”

“there’s an elephant? where?” lewis chuckles nervously.

“lew, i don’t have time for this.”

a beat.

“you’ve called me lew. twice now.”

“force of habit. muscle memory.”

“don’t you remember? greece? australia, 2008? what you said to me in brackley? because i can remind you. you said i lo–”

“i do, lewis. of course i do. i remember everything. but things have changed.” nico says, under his breath. lewis seems to ignore everything he just said.

“and you know i meant everything i said on tuesday too, right? i do love you.”

“uh huh, yeah. i know.”

nico hides his face in his latte. maybe if he tries hard enough he can disappear into it?

“so what’s the problem?”

“what’s the– what’s the problem?!”

his voice gets a little loud for such a small coffee shop. feeling lewis’ eyes on him, he retreats back to his coffee mug, gathering his thoughts as he stares into the swirly foam. 

“the problem is,  _ lewis _ , that i have a wife. and kids. and a life. when i said i was done with this circus, i was including you.”

“so the problem isn’t that you don’t love me back?”

“don’t twist my fucking words. you can’t do this to me. you can’t just walk in, and expect me to drop everything after one fucking latte, profess my love and runaway into the sunset. this isn’t a disney movie. yes, we had our moments, and i enjoyed them very much, but it’s in the past now.”

lewis has seemingly abandoned his coffee, sitting cold on the table.

“did you have anything else you wanted to discuss? because i have errands to run. vivian has a big opening tonight.”

nico can’t bear to look at the hurt in lewis’ eyes, so he summons the waitress for the bill. 

“so you’re really going to end decades of friendship, or whatever it was we had, like this?”

lewis’ voice cracks on the last words.

“i guess i am.”

the sun hurts his eyes when he walks out of the coffee shop. it decided to come out after all. how fitting, nico thinks. the sounds of cars, seagulls, waves, and people, assault his ears. he takes out his phone, as a text from vivian lights up his screen.

**(mein liebe)**

hey babe! have you picked up the frames yet? if no could u get black instead of brown? it’ll fit better

i haven’t sorry, had some stuff to do. will do

thanks babe!

no worries, see you in a bit x

  1. _i love you too_



the months pass. no news from lewis, as expected (and as desired). not that nico has been watching, but he has been doing well in his absence. wiping the floor with valtteri, actually. he knows what that feels like all too well. doing the wiping, and being wiped.

he has also been doing well in lewis’ absence. life goes on. the girls finished school, summer break finally rolled around, although instead of the usual august, it begins in june now. surely nico will get used to it eventually. not anticipating monza, not training like a mad man for months on end, all in an effort to end lewis’ dominance. he doesn’t have to shape his whole life around him anymore. the meditation, the regime, that’s all over. the most important thing in his life ceased to be the trophy, or how many points he can possibly get, or how many nasty things they could possibly say about each other in the press pen. 

now it’s whether he filled out the right field trip forms, whether he packed the apple in naila’s lunch, or what type of oat milk (lewis hates–hated oat milk) to get from the ridiculously expensive organic grocery store down the street from their place. simple things. small stakes. and nico is okay with that, he is. 

as he sits in the sleek lobby of vivian’s firm, he thinks about how similar it looks to the mercedes headquarters, in brackley. grey, uninviting. the same seemingly 90 degree angle couches.

lewis always hated those dumb couches that look straight out of a spaceship, and were so, so uncomfortable. “no lumbar support in these fucking things!”, was the first thing he told him on that cold september day. which was always funny to nico, considering they spent practically their whole careers sitting down. he guessed they must be experts in seating arrangements.“i know right? the backrests are just so weirdly low” he answered. 

it was september 2012, and they were both nervously waiting for toto and ross to show up. lewis was here to sign on for 2013, and nico was there for the usual beginning of season affairs. having won his first championship a few years earlier, and surely on his way to win many more, lewis had taken one hell of a gamble moving to mercedes. their car was nowhere near the mclaren he used to have, or sebastian’s mighty redbull. nevertheless, they were both absolutely ecstatic to be reunited, and couldn’t wait to be teammates once again. the future looked so bright, even on that gloomy day. they had had so many calls, so many talks on the grid about how excited they were. this was the moment. 

he sat on his sad excuse for a couch (who decided on these? honestly), recalling their early single seater days. dingy motel rooms, late night whispered love confessions, long hours spent driving, yelling out bad 80’s music. pent up, champagne soaked post-podium fucks. it had been a while.

he still remembers walking out with their folders full of paperwork, ready to face the world. the sun had come out.

“do you want a ride home? i gotta try out the company car. surely it’s better than a mclaren” lewis said with that toothy grin. nico got the urge to wipe it away. so he leaned in. lewis pulled away, almost like he was electrocuted.

“woah woah woah. are we really doing this again? is this a good idea?”

“well, it worked out fine when we were teens. why not?”

“nico we’re adults now. in formula one. in the same team.”

“yes, and? your point is?”   
“couldn’t it end badly?”

“we didn’t let the competition get in the way back then! i love you, you love me, that’s all that matters. we’re back together now. this is going to be good.”

_ a beat _

“you do–you do love me right? or was that a lie.”

“nico jesus, stop being so dramatic, you princess. of course i love you. always have. always will. ”

nico’s eyes widened, before he broke out into laughter.

“i’m just fucking with you. love you too, boo”

lewis’ eyes did that sparkly thing they do, when he looks at you and makes you feel like you are his whole entire world.

“get in loser!”

the mercedes was in fact much more fun, at least according to lewis’ beaming smile all the way home,  _ tears for fear _ blaring through the speakers.

no one saw the end coming. no one really expected them to crash and burn in  _ such  _ a spectacular way. the “silver war”, people called it. nico found that a bit overdramatic. in retrospect, it was always going to happen. you put two people, two warriors, who are so competitive, because they have to be, in the same team. that relationship simply cannot stay intact, it can’t survive. not under that much pressure. he should have known. but red flags just look like flags through rose coloured glasses, don’t they? 

vivian finally shows up, fifteen minutes late, ripping nico from his thoughts once again. 

“ready to go?”

“yeah! yeah.”

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first ever work of fiction, since about 6th grade. do be gentle but i welcome constructive criticism with open arms. thank you to my partner in crime, this would never have happened without you.


End file.
